Evanescence
by dark-shadows-fan-1997
Summary: This is the first chapter of my DS fanfiction "Evanescence," and I hope with my continuation all of you will like it!
1. Chapter 1

_Preface_:

In the West Wing of Collinwood, there was a strange, unfamiliar portrait hanging in the gloom that longed to be looked upon again. A single portrait, that was indeed one of an unknown family member, that dared to come back amongst the other paintings from a distant time. But the history behind the portrait was rather mysterious, as was the history behind the young woman who was indeed the subject of the painting itself. But no matter how much time it had spent in the darkness, a certain member from the Collins family longed to discover the truth beneath the rose that was painted angelicly on the canvas from years most unfathomable from before the breaking of Collinwood.

_Chapter One: The West Wing_

Ben Stokes had been having a particular fuss about his master's request from the night before, and still continued it on to himself as he took a lantern in hand as well as a box of matches. Ben slid the box open, got a match and lit the lantern. Bringing the small stick up to his lips, he blew it out with a swift heavy breath. Placing the matches in his pocket, he held the lantern out in front of him. The flame grew brightly, and it shed a little light on the walls of the emptiness of Collinwood as he continued forward. "I've already been here so many times today already," Ben mumbled to himself, his voice barely hearable. Shadows followed behind him, and the gloom slowly disappeared every step he took closer to the door of the West Wing. But as he continued down the empty hall, Ben felt a disturbing prescence eying him down. Shivers ran down his spine, then he heard a tap or two from within the hollowed walls. Ben looked directly at the wall, and a grave thought ran through his mind. Bloody hell, what kind of trick is this? How I hate walking through this place at night! Ben thought. Ben knew that there was no reason to believe that that wretched lady that adored his master was back. No way at all. "Ben, come here; come. Enter the Wing and you will follow my voice still. Follow my voice, Ben," a voice whispered in the eerie darkness. The voice repeated the command only once, hypnotizing Ben as he drew closer to the greatly-detailed wooden door. But the voice that echoed to Ben was not the witch's, for it was a different voice that began to haunt him. "Ben, come here. Come here, and if you do as I ask, I shall let you live. I do hope you understand." Silenced, Ben opened the door and entered the antique and heirloom-filled corridor that was shadowed completely by the broken night. Shattered glass crunched underneath Ben's feet as he neared the voice. The strange voice continued taunting him, and then it echoed a new command. "Ben, come over to where the bay window creaks open, and hold the lantern in front of you to the wall where the lost portraits hang and you will find me." Ben continued past the long mirrors, through the old antiques carefully, and then he arrived at the bay window. The curtins were blowing wildly as the midnight air blew in with cold intensites, and then the bay window doors creaked back and forth slowly. The chilling sensation of fright then ran down Ben's spine. Cackling screamed at Ben's ears, and soon he heard that same voice yet again. Oh no, it's like her evil! It's like her, Ben thought. "Ben, hold up the lantern immediately!" Ben did as the voice asked, and upon the wall, the portrait of a beautiful woman with a hauntingly beautiful pair of eyes stared at him with judging eyes. "At last, Ben, you have found me. What a good servant you are. Now, listen to the singing voice of my soul and begin your ascent into a deep sleep." "No, I did what you asked, now let me go!" Ben pleaded, falling to his knees as quickly after her demand ceased. But no matter how hard Ben tried to resist, the beautiful voice got the best of him:

_"I find her lying in fields of a sweet innocence of the heart_  
_Watching her pluck petals of the red rose in the light_  
_Her smile would make any cruelty to fasten and depart_  
_And I remember her mostly as she laughs in the twilight_

_Her happiness brings joy and sweetness to a broken love_  
_And she dances and sings with passion as she swiftly heals_  
_She is like a white magic disguised as a perfect, little dove_  
_And from you in a mystifying love, your heart she does steal_

_In the dead of night, she'll bring to the world an undying bliss_  
_Just as she revives your heart with a perfect safety and care_  
_She could bring you back to life with a tiny, sweet kiss_  
_Almost making you wish she would forever be there_

As the dawn comes, she'll hold onto you until the long end  
Protecting you from all things evil that dwell within harm  
She'll save you as she becomes your newest, caring friend  
And to the end, she'll love you forever as you're arm in arm."

Ben felt shaky, and he dropped the lantern. The glass from the lantern broke, and the flame engulfed the old carpet. The burning smell of thread became a strong stench to Ben, and with the smell of that, he fainted and dozed off to sleep. But the painting on the wall had a different approach entirely. And out of the nowhere, a pair of barefeet stepped onto the floor before Ben, and a strange kind of magic was used to trap Ben in a fiery circle. The laughing continued on after the long silence was broken, and the voice became more distinctively human the moment the woman from the portrait kneeled before the flames. Her hand reached through the burning heat, and she gently swiped a piece of Ben's hair off of his thick forehead. "Ah, Ben. I do think I am going to like it here very, very much," the voice whispered, laughing gently. In the esscence of the shady and firelit darkness, the beautiful woman's spirit fled the West Wing, leaving Ben alone and unconsicous, and fled the cold, stone foundations of Collinwood itself to be with the darkness she longed loved until the moment would come when she and her lost love would be reunited again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: The Blue Whale

Collinsport was in that condition again. A condition in which the darkness and cold mixed together perfectly whenever despair was about. Around the piers, the waters churned and thrashed against the wooden piers as the rain downpoured. Thunder and lightning also beautified the night sky, making a visable and hearable storm known to the people who lived in the small town. It was a blistery night as well, and no one dared to go out anywhere except to the Blue Whale for moral support from one another. However, there was a young woman who did not care for the weather at all. Carolyn Stoddard made her way from her car with an umbrella high over her head, clutching onto the handle tightly. Her knuckles were a pale white as usual, and they were gripping the umbrella handle as if it were the only thing holding her down on Earth. Breath left her in a heated mist, and she continued to walk along the sidewalk. Carolyn's feet finally shuffled her into the door way of the Whale, and then she entered swiftly without a train of thought to worry her. Every fisherman looked at her when she walked in, but she didn't mind the harsh critisism that the men flew at her. So who cares if I'm the only woman in here at the moment, Carolyn thought, closing her soaked umbrella at her side. If you don't like it, find somewhere else to drink you drunk bilgerats. Tom, the bartender who Carolyn had trusted from her first night in the Whale, looked at her with puzzling eyes as he wiped a glass with a dirty rag. Carolyn flung her coat on the rack, and put her wet umbrella in her large coat pocket too. "What'll it be, Carol?" Tom asked. Carolyn began to shake as she walked over, but then got over it. "I'll have a brandy, Tom." Carolyn replied, sitting at the edge of an empty barside. Smoke suddenly clouded her nostrils, and she coughed at the stench. She waved her hand back and forth, and suddenly felt a wet liquid on her shoulder as something bumped against her causing it to spill. It was Terence Bricklen, and he was drunker than she had ever seen him. Carolyn looked him in his bloodshot eyes and made a disgusted look. "Carol, I's sorry. Sorry hun," he said, stumbling onto the seat. Tom came back with Carolyn's brandy, and he shooed Terence away. "Carol, can't I's stay? I's be quiet for ya." Terence said, making a smug face towards her. Carolyn said nothing, and shooed him away same as Tom did. Jesus, he's far worse than Willie, she thought to herself. Terence stumbled off, and then Tom interceded to make conversation with her. Carolyn lifted the brandy glass to her lips, and drank small gulps as she eyed Tom through the glass. A look of surprise was what he slapped onto his face. Carolyn looked at him and slammed the glass down onto the wooden bar. "Seems like you had a good day," Tom said. Carolyn hmphed at the remark, and waved her glass right in front of him. Tom grabbed the bottle and poured some more in. "You have no idea how horrible Will's becoming, Tom. He's always drinking like a fish, and it's almost like he's married to that damn bottle." Carolyn said, her voice raspy from the quickened consumption of her favorite brandy. Tom looked at her with arched eyebrows. "Marriage is horrible, Tom. I knew Will would never change after I married him. Hell, what's the point of marrying a man if all he's going to do is ignore you?" Carolyn said, slumping the side of her face in her hand. Tom saw the loneliness and anger on Carolyn's face. The irises she had were dark with solitude and hurt, and tears were just watering in her eyelids but not falling. Carolyn wiped them away and sniffled. Tom saw that she began to shake, so he got out from behind the counter and gave her a small fleece. "Hopefully that'll keep you warm." Tom said, washing another glass as well as drying it. "I mean seriously, Tom. What's the point of marriage? It's like no matter how hard I try, he's always screwing it up!" Carolyn groaned. Tom looked at her again. "What about Vicki; what's she doing?" "She's not here. She's with a friend and is out of town for the week. So, I'm all alone with that drunk. Don't even ask me about Julia, and Magda's up and about somewhere with her husband." Tom looked at Carolyn and saw how upset and alone she was. Tom thought for a minute, and then asked if Ben was around the Collinwood joint. "Why do you ask that?" Carolyn asked, sipping her brandy down. Tom hunched his shoulders, then said, "You haven't heard what happened to him up in the West Wing, did you?" Carolyn and the gruffy men looked at Tom as if they were children wanting to hear a ghost story. "What happened to Ben, Tom?" "Well, I heard that he was up in the West Wing looking for something, and that something inhuman attacked him and left him barely alive in a ring of blazing fire." Oh God, not Ben. Why would someone want to hurt that harmless lug? He hasn't been anything but loyal to the family, Carolyn thought to herself again. "Jesus, I guess your place really is cursed, Stoddard," the drunken men said to her in unison, setting a feeling of uneasiness amongst her. Terror rushed through Carolyn's heart, and then she thought to herself in a dazing panic again: Why would someone do such terrible harm to Ben like that for? Oh God, I hope she's not back! Please Lord, don't let Angéliqué be back!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Barnabas

"Barnabas, Barnabas! Where are you? Answer me please!" Jamison cried out, peeking into the drawing room. His eyes looked into the room and saw no one. The richly-detailed furniture and antiques looked like no had touched them for weeks, and that the feeling of abandoment and loneliness swept through him as he continued to look. Jamison thought that the emptiness of Collinwood was strange, but obviously it wasn't strange enough when the candles blew out. He gave out a whimper of fright, and then heard the whoosing wind enter the manor. Jamison followed the sound of the wind through the dark, and saw the front doors were opened and creaking back and forth on their hinges. Jamison gave a sigh of relief and closed the door. And then, almost of nowhere, the candles relit themselves without any physical touch of a human hand. Gasping and bulging his eyes wildly, Jamison felt paralyzed in his steps the moment he turned around towards the dim lights. An invisible prescence consumed the room with him, giving him the feeling that he was not alone. With his joints frozen with fear, Jamison felt as if he were being watched by a deadly creature that was poised to kill at any given moment. Jamison closed his eyes and thought that he was just dreaming. But he was ever so wrong when he heard the voice of the man he was looking come up from right behind him. "You should close the doors behind you, Jamison. The draft isn't good for this house." Jamison fell to the floor when he realized whose voice it was that frightened him. And he was right. There in the doorway, with the black cloak on his shoulders and memorable silver-and-gold cane head in his onyx-ringed hand, there stood Barnabas Collins with a darkened gaze as well as a trail of crimson falling from the corner of his thin lip...

"Did I frighten you, Jamison? Because if I did, I do apologize. How unwise of me. Here, let me help you up," Barnabas said, switching his cane to a free hand and giving Jamison one to take. "It's alright, I guess. I was just wondering where you were," Jamison replied, taking Barnabas' hand and wrenching himself upwards, "It's just that-." Jamison froze yet again as he saw the crimson dripping warmly and quickly from Barnabas' lip still. "Oh, forgive me. I just had to go out for only a moment. I do hope that didn't make you change your mind of wanting to tell me something. You did have something to tell me, right?" Barnabas pondered, wiping his lips and chin free of the blood with a white cloth. Jamison snapped out it, and said yes. Barnabas saw that Jamison had something rather important. "Well, come with me into the drawing room so that we may talk," he said to Jamison. Jamison nodded and followed Barnabas. They both sat down in separate chairs and began to speak to one another. "So Jamison, what brings you to the Old House in the middle of the night?" "Well, there are two things at matter. One is in regards to Ben, and the other is a complete mystery that I figured you might want to help yourself with." Barnabas seemed interested and puzzled, and then he crossed his leg on his left and let Jamison continue. "Okay, well, you know how you sent Ben up into the West Wing a couple nights ago?" "Yes, why?" "Well, he was attacked." Barnabas' eyes bulged into saucer-like size, and then he begged Jamison to continue. "Ben was up in the Wing I guess, searching for something cause he heard a voice calling him. He entered, and then something unexplainable happened. When Willie and I found him together, Ben was caught in the middle of a ring of fire which surprisingly didn't harm him. He was unconsicous for a while after we got him, but then he woke up not remembering a thing. Well, actually, I guess he remembered one thing the voice said." Barnabas removed himself from his chair and knelt beside the arm of the one Jamison occupied. "What did Ben tell you, Jamison?" "He was muttering something like this:

_"I find her lying in fields of a sweet innocence of the heart_  
_Watching her pluck petals of the red rose in the light_  
_Her smile would make any cruelty to fasten and depart_  
_And I remember her mostly as she laughs in the twilight_

_Her happiness brings joy and sweetness to a broken love_  
_And she dances and sings with passion as she swiftly heals_  
_She is like a white magic disguised as a perfect, little dove_  
_And from you in a mystifying love, your heart she does steal_

_In the dead of night, she'll bring to the world an undying bliss_  
_Just as she revives your heart with a perfect safety and care_  
_She could bring you back to life with a tiny, sweet kiss_  
_Almost making you wish she would forever be there_

_As the dawn comes, she'll hold onto you until the long end_  
_Protecting you from all things evil that dwell within harm_  
_She'll save you as she becomes your newest, caring friend_  
_And to the end, she'll love you forever as you're arm in arm."_

Barnabas' heart almost stopped in his chest. That lullaby! Oh no! It can't be her! Please don't let it be her. Please! Barnabas thought. Jamison saw Barnabas' expression and knew that it had to have been bad. "Barnabas, what's wrong? Do you know that poem and who wrote it?" he asked, taking Barnabas' shoulder with his hand in a concerned and curious grasp. Barnabas was still overwhelmed by what Jamison had said. His mouth was dropped open and his eyebrows were arched in a worried arch. "Barnabas, there's the other thing too," Jamison said, reaching into his pocket, "That mysterious voice I guess went up to Ben in a human form, and gave him a letter with your name written on it to give to you. Since Ben's in the Collinsport hospital, he asked me to give it to you." Barnabas' heart almost stuck dead that time. His eyes swooped down at Jamison's hand: he held a crimson-coloured letter, and that familiar smell of roses and vanilla pondered in his nostrils. And on the front of the crimson-coloured letter, it beheld a beautiful form of cursive which he knew had to have been only hers. Jamison tried giving Barnabas the letter, but instead Barnabas removed himself from Jamison's side rather quickly. "I am sorry you had to come here in the middle of the night, Jamison. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to be off to rest; I am rather exhausted." Barnabas said. Jamison threw a puzzled look onto his face and followed Barnabas out of the drawing room. "Barnabas, you know who wrote the letter, don't you? That means you might know who tried to hurt Ben!" "Jamison, please leave! I am tired and you probably are too. Please, go home and get some rest. You sound just as exhausted and as worn out as I am." Jamison looked Barnabas in the eye and scoffed shaking his head. "Fine, but I'm leaving you the letter as Ben asked," he said, giving Barnabas the letter. With a shaky hand, Barnabas took it. Without a word, Jamison left with disappointment in his heart. The doors to Collinwood were slammed shut, and Barnabas was left all alone with terrible memories that he had long tried to forget for good reasons.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: The Letter

Barnabas' hand trembled greatly as he held the letter; fear ran through his veins at the touch of the smooth paper. Memories of the past began to flood his mind, and then he had the sudden urge to open the letter which held his name upon it so legiably and hauntingly. I can't believe it, he thought. I watched her die. I helped bury her! Shivers ran down his spine as he ripped the flap of the crimson envelope open. God, please let this be a hideous joke. If it is her, I fear my heart will explode at the very second I read the first word. Cautiously with anxiety, he pulled the letter from out of the red envelope. Barnabas licked his lips nervously as he closed his eyes. His fingers opened the letter for him with a consicous sight, and then Barnabas reopened his eyes. Barnabas began to read the letter:

_"My Dearest Barnabas, _  
_I can't even begin to explain how I feel about you. It's been so long. It's almost like I'm lost in a daydream although I really shouldn't be. We both should know that. You told me it was wise not to be lost in them. But how can I stop dreaming of you? I know we are many, many years apart, and that you are still here and I am gone but to dream of you is one of the most helpful things that allows me to get through my hard life. To picture your beautiful smile, your angelic face, your wonderful body, and your good heart in my mind just makes me want to go on living when my own heart is already dead. But no matter what, I long to be like you. I long to be in the ground beside you every time I think of dying. I know you've told me not to waste myself, but how can life be better when mine is an absolute hell in which the flames keep stoking up at every moment? If only you were still here. But to lie next to you, six feet under in the ground, just seems so perfect and absolute for me at the moment. Because every time I see you in a picture, my heart dies and my eyes cry tears of mourning. Death seems like a strange fantasy, but to know that it could bring us together could be so divine to pursue. But even before we met, I know you also didn't want me getting hurt by your doing, but I've been broken so many times that I can't even feel anything at all anymore thanks to fate and pain. Fate and pain, what a dear concidence that I should suffer both again. No matter how hard I tried to make life the best, I fail and die every day that I lived. And fate, my love, is what I have met each and every day and night since my untimely and tragic demise. Your light becomes my darkness, while my light disappears into a form of tragedy and of death. But I can't love you through a portrait or a letter. I can only love you through death since it's the only way we really can be together. I've always wanted to be with you, but ever since the darkness took you away from the light, it's been so unfair that it tortures me to die and cry for you. To feel your lips with mine, to look into your eyes with my own again would be the sweetest dream of mine that would ever come true. But if you are listening, please don't judge me, for loneliness is what you and I have most in common as well as the darkness. Please don't break yourself over me, for my heart is already too far gone for you to sew back together and try to revive, love. I am sorry, but I cannot help myself over loving you since you're the only one I've ever loved. Forever and ever, I will be yours. If you be the light to my darkness, the choice I will make might be changed. But if not, death will bring us closer in darkness so that you will never be alone. I swear it. In my life or death, we will be together, my dark angel. Until then, I'll be waiting in the shadows for Death's answer to see if our fates will ever be entwined."_

Sweat cleansed Barnabas' brow, and then a familiar entity entered the drawing room with a prescence that he had not felt in a long time. The candles around the antique-decorated room were blown out, and then the wind forcefully flung the doors to Collinwood open. The doors were flung directly off the hinges, and they fell loudly to the floor. Barnabas' eyes couldn't believe what he saw next. An apparition of a beautiful woman came into sight, and it resembled the young woman whose portrait still hung in the West Wing. Fear struck the heart of Barnabas, and then the ghost stepped forward into the drawing room. "Stay away from me; I warn you," Barnabas said, dropping the letter onto the floor and backing himself against the fireplace. But no matter how many times he warned the ghost, she continued to step forward. But as she drew closer, Barnabas saw her beauty and the dress she was wearing. No, it can't be her. She died a long time ago. I helped bury her in the graveyard. Barnabas studied her face, and the features she beheld were making it quite clear as to who she was from his past. Beauty was what she once had, and what she still had: Her hair was still that long wavy black length; it was still bound together in a red ribbon over her shoulder. Her face remained in that heart-shaped form, and it still beheld those beautiful features he remembered. But then came her lips: full, red, and smooth. Her eyes were almond-shaped, and with that still hauntingly breathtaking gaze that bloomed brightly from those long, black lashes. And then came her body. Her shoulders were still broadly-shaped and fair, and her thin figure stalked towards Barnabas still. "Please, I beg of you; don't come any closer!" Barnabas hissed, his voice stern and defensive. And then, as if the ghost were still human, tears fell from her gorgeous eyes as she stopped in her tracks. She began to sniffle to Barnabas' surprisement, and then she bent her head downwards. Barnabas began to feel rather ashamed of himself, and then he saw her step closer. But this time he said nothing as he saw her pick up the letter with her ghostly hand. Sniffling still, she withdrew a handkerchief from her sleeve, and wiped away her tears. Barnabas then withdrew from the fireplace and walked towards her. The ghostly woman held her hand out to Barnabas, and he eyed the letter and envelope. "I am so sorry, Barnabas. But please, I beg of you; take the letter." Barnabas looked to her with a saddened heart, and he did as he asked of her. He reached his hand out to hers, and he gently took the letter. Then, she disappeared out of thin air and left Barnabas all alone. "Wait, come back! Come back! Please, I beg of you, come back Vénessa!" And with that remark, the vampire was left with memories of the past that he knew that would bring back such tragic glimpses he knew would come back to haunt him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Vénessa

Barnabas went out to the Old House, and he took with him a lantern and a mysterious diary he had kept from the year tragedy misguided that poor woman. A match was struck, and then Barnabas lit the lantern before the doors that led to the West Wing. Barnabas gathered the diary and placed it in his pocket, and gathered the lantern in one of his hands as he grasped the golden handle of the door. He turned the handle and pushed the door open, and discovered that shattered glass still had refuge on the floor. Barnabas entered, and began to walk through the darkness. But behind him, a silent gust of wind closed the door without Barnabas knowing a single thing. But as he continued on, he saw the bay window that Ben saw too. It was still opened, and the wind blew the curtins with a more mysterious whisp as he drew closer. Around him, Barnabas saw the old, dusty antiques, and he then he saw porcelain dolls that once belonged to his dear sister. Barnabas flinched at the sight of the dolls, but still continued on. "Barnabas, come to me. I am here. I'm here in this room. Follow my voice and I promise nothing harmful will happen. All I want is for you to come and find me," her voice whispered, soft as it was the first night Ben had entered. "Vénessa, why have you harmed Ben? Why? You had better explain or I will turn around and leave," Barnabas threatened. A moment of silence clouded the room in an instant. Barnabas' mind pondered as to what Vénessa was thinking. The cold whisp of air flooded the room, and then that was when Vénessa decided to appear again. She entered the room, and appeared from behind Barnabas. "Barnabas, it has been so long. Long years have passed since we last met. I do hope you'll forgive me for that encounter with Ben Stokes," Vénessa replied. Silenced, Barnabas gave her a rather untrusted look; Vénessa returned a heartbroken one. "Barnabas, why do you see me as a threat instead of a blessing? Haven't I made you but my solid foundation for love? I hope you still have the letter I gave you." "Vénessa, I do not know what you are here to do, or what your plans are, but I do hope that you will leave my family and servants alone." Gasping, Vénessa stepped back and threw her hand over her ghostly heart. "Barnabas, have you torn the letter? If you have, I will be most saddened to know that you have." "Vénessa, that is not the matter here! What the matter is is that you will leave my family and servants alone. And if you are wondering, yes, I still have your lovelorn letter. And that letter, however saddened you may become, is what I have come here to give back to you as well as-" he tried to say, but was cut off by her teary voice. "My diary. I knew it; I knew you kept it after I had died. But my only question is why though." "Vénessa, please understand this: I have already broken many hearts, but I will not break yours again. The only reason I kept your diary was to keep it safe from those who were too curious to nose about your life. Here," Barnabas explained, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing it, "I will leave it here for you. What lies in those pages are meant for your eyes alone. I must regret saying this, but I do believe this is the last time I want to see you. Goodbye and good night, Vénessa. May you find such peace in Heaven for when you finally cross over. I am sorry for this unfortunate inconvience." Silence struck again. Pain began to run through Vénessa's breaking heart as she slumped to the floor and watched Barnabas turn his back to her. He shuffled his feet to the door, all the while he began making marks with his cane along the dusty floor. Tears began to fall from Vénessa's sparkling blue eyes, and then she spoke the poem she used to sing. And to the shock of it all, it had been the same poem she had sung to Ben the night he discovered her.  
Halting in his tracks, Barnabas turned and saw the sorrow upon her face as she ended with a choked breath. Her eyes were consumed with tears of a broken love, and seeing it made Barnabas feel guilty to know he had given her such heartache. "Oh Vénessa, what have I done to you?" Barnabas choked, feeling his heart ache as well. Without saying a word, Vénessa vanished into darkness. Barnabas was left alone by her again, and this time, he understood why she would leave him alone with such torment. Why can't the past just leave us alone?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Remembering

Barnabas returned to Collinwood, and went to the basement immediately. He threw his coat onto the rack, set down his cane, and opened his coffin. But before getting into it, he looked at it and sighed. To think she now lies in one. What a quaint concidence, Barnabas thought. But then he remembered what he had actually done with her letter. He reached into his pocket, and felt the paper and envelope; he pulled them out and stared. He lit a couple of candles, and began to read the letter again. In this letter, she sounded so sincere. Sincere as if she were apologizing for something. Barnabas read it over and over again, and wanted to cry so badly but couldn't. It's not fair that she should have to suffer like she does. Why couldn't it have been me lying on my mother's stone effigy instead of her? But then something relapsed in Barnabas' mind. The graveyard. I must go to the graveyard, Barnabas thought. But now, the sun was rising, and it was time for him to adjourn to his coffin once more. Barnabas tucked the letter away again, and got into his coffin. His hand gripped the top of the coffin lid, and he slowly pulled it down on top of himself. It was dark inside, of course, and that was when he went to sleep with his mind rolling in his head with a heavy conscience. Barnabas tried to think of what happened, so he pictured the dress in which Vénessa appeared to him in. It was beautiful, and then he remembered it to be his mother's wedding dress. Memories began to form in his mind, and then that was when he remembered what had happened to her. Vénessa began to tear away from life itself, avoiding family and friends. She walled herself up in her room much like Quentin had before he died, but that was not what happened to her. Vénessa found his mother's dress in the closet, and must have put it on before the tragedy that befell her. A straight-razor; oh, how Barnabas cringed at the thought of it. The thought of that sharp silver running across her wrists, and her adjourning to the family mausoleum before her tragic fate made Barnabas shiver in his cold skin. He remembered what had happened at last; the memory played in his mind as if it were something he was all too familiar with.

"Barnabas, leave me alone! Please!" Vénessa had said to him, locking the mausoleum gate behind her. Barnabas ran up to the gate, and shook with all his might as he looked into her tearing eyes with his. Anxiety pressed on both of their hearts and minds. "Vénessa, for God's sake, don't throw your life away so rashly!" Barnabas interjected, still shaking the gate. Then Vénessa spoke again with her tears finally falling from her eyes: "Barnabas, you have no idea what pain really is. To lose someone so close to your heart is a dreadful thing!" Barnabas began to panic as he eyed the straight-razor at her side. She drew the blade close to her wrist as she neared it shakily. "Vénessa, don't murder yourself! You have your whole life ahead of you! You still have your whole life with me to behold!" Uncontrollable sobbing finally erupted from Vénessa's eyes, and her echoing cries were glistening with a mournful sound in Barnabas' ears. Vénessa continued: "Barnabas, it's too late. You can't save everybody. I know you really do care-" Barnabas became desparate, and he was just ready to rip down that gate. His last bit of mortal tears fell from his own eyes, and then he whispered to her with sincere truth. "If you know I care, then you won't do this to me. To us." Silence was inevitably taking ahold of the moment, and then fate came closer and closer at every minute. Vénessa approached the gate, but did not unlock it. Instead, she slid her small hand through the gate and cupped the side of Barnabas' face. His hand grasped hers, and then he kissed her palm with an undying love. "Barnabas, I love you. I love you both with all my heart. I always will; goodbye, my love," Vénessa whispered, sorrow consuming her voice. Barnabas looked her in the eye for the last time with a look of confusion within his, and saw the last of her tears fall from her face. The silver blade sliced through her frail skin. Sobbing, Vénessa's hand slipped away from Barnabas' face and then she fell onto Naomi's marble effigy. Blood welled from out of the wound, and Vénessa breathed her last. Her eyes looked into Barnabas' one last time, and then they closed for forever. Slumping down against the gate, Barnabas screamed with all his might: "NOOO! Vénessa! No, God no! Why didn't You take me!"

Barnabas woke in his coffin and screamed with terror freezing the very blood in his veins. His hands banged against the lid of the coffin, and that was when he flung it open, sat up, and began to whimper since it was the only thing he could do. "Vénessa! Vénessa," he moaned, sulking his face into his hands. And for the rest of the day, Barnabas remained closed away in his coffin and did not sleep, for his heart was breaking with an undying love for her.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: The Reason  
Vénessa had felt a disturbance in Barnabas' heart, and knew that he would come again very soon. She paced back and forth across the dusty floor in the West Wing, and worried that he might asked her why she did it. Of course, he had every right to know and ask. But how could she explain? In what way would he possibly understand? He had to know eventually, but she still pondered in her mind as to how she could tell him. The hours passed long and tediously, and then night came again. The silhouette of darkness befell the Old House, and the gloom carried on the usual tradition of allowing sorrow to pierce the hearts of all those who lived by it. But Vénessa knew, that in only an hour or two, that Barnabas would arrive yet again and demand the answer to the terrible memory. As if her heart was still alive, the feeling of heartache consumed it again the moment she saw Barnabas enter through the doorway of the Old House with a look of solitude on his face.

"Vénessa, where are you? Please show yourself to me! I desperately need to talk to you, Vénessa!" Barnabas cried, his voice hoarse and raspy from the screaming he had conducted earlier. The darkness slowly began to vanish at the lighting of candles. The West Wing was lit with enough light, that Barnabas saw what the Wing was meant to be storage for. "Barnabas, I am here. Come sit by me, and we can talk about whatever you needed to meet with me about," Vénessa said, allowing her voice to echo on the winds. Barnabas looked behind him, and saw Vénessa in the wedding dress yet again. "Come along, Barnabas. I am sure you are just awaiting the truth after so many years," Vénessa added, patting the side of an unoccupied cushion on the bench beside her. Desperate, Barnabas joined her. He threw off his coat as he approached her, and allowed it to fall onto the floor behind him. He placed his cane swiftly on an empty table, and sat right beside Vénessa. Looking upon each other's faces, Vénessa and Barnabas saw that they shared the same look of terror and guilt. "Please tell me everything; I need to know, Vénessa." Barnabas said quickly, arching his eyebrows into that saddened arch of his. Vénessa thought over and over again as to what to say, but then her heart told her to speak the truth: "It was a year before you met Josette when you and I spent the night together. I had felt sickly days before, but then I realized that this kind of sickly estate wasn't accompanying the sickness I already had. And so, I called on Magda for an answer. We spent two hours together, and then she told me what was wrong with me. She told me to let time go by, and that time would heal me. She also told me to not to make a fuss about it, and then I did as she told me to. Months passed, and then five nights before our wedding, I couldn't feel anything anymore. My heart was broken when I returned to Magda and to the news of what she told me after she gazed into her crystal ball. So, feeling I couldn't make myself happy anymore and thinking I was going to be a burden to you, I found your mother's wedding dress and put it on. I gradually made my way to your family mausoleum after I took one of your straight-razors. And then I assume Magda told you where I was after you arrived home, and then I guess that's when you attempted to save me." Vénessa told Barnabas, trying her best she could verbally. Barnabas, on the other hand, was making a face that made him look like someone had strangled him alive. Heavy breathing escaped him, and that was when he slumped onto his knees before Vénessa as he continued to stare at her. Vénessa could tell his heart was broken again, and that his voice would soon come out into the open again. "What really happened, Vénessa?" he croaked, making a sobbing face without any tears following along. Vénessa really didn't know what to tell him, so she took his hand with hers and said: "Follow me and I'll show you."

Vénessa led Barnabas through the blistering cold night out to the cemetery. The oaks that surrounded the Old House creaked, and the moon looked down upon them both with a sad, glowing face. Barnabas held Vénessa close to him as they accompanied one another through the rows of grey, cracked graves. The wind began to pick up, and that was when Vénessa began to cry again. "I am so sorry, Barnabas. I should have told you," Vénessa wept. Barnabas looked at her, and held her tighter. Neither one of them said nothing after she spoke, and then after walking for a few minutes, they finally reached a certain grave. This grave had vines of dead leaves wrapped all around it, which also made it hard to see the name. Barnabas began to have a feeling of guilt run through him again, and then Vénessa separated herself from him and tried to remove the vines while Barnabas held the lantern high in the air. After many times of pulling, the name was finally visable, but not as legiable as it was the day it was carved onto the stone. Vénessa stood beside Barnabas, and took the lantern from him and took his hand yet again. They walked directly up to the grave and stopped in their tracks. "Look at the name very closely, and you will finally understand why I am the way I am," Vénessa explained. She let go of Barnabas' hand, and he bent to look at the name. Vénessa aided him with light for reading, and then Barnabas began to try and decipher the name. Silence passed between them, and then Barnabas slumped directly to his knees. Vénessa caught him in her arms, and then she began to cry again. Barnabas looked at her with a sad look in his brown irises. Vénessa closed her eyes to avoid any kind of contact with his. Barnabas looked away from her, and then looked back at the grave. He didn't have the strength left to speak the name of whose grave it was, but embedded the name, dates, and phrase forever in his mind:

_Barnéssa Naomi Collins_  
_Born: May 17th, 1794_  
_Died: December 2nd, 1794_  
_Daughter of Barnabas Collins and Vénessa Délacroix_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Vénessa's Secret

"Barnabas, believe me; I wanted to tell you about her, honestly I did. But I, I just didn't know how to; I'm so sorry," Vénessa wept, holding Barnabas tightly as they both sat together at the foot of their daughter's grave. Barnabas was speechless. "Vénessa, why didn't you tell me? You were going to have my daughter, but yet you thought listening to the gypsy was wise?" Barnabas questioned, confused at whether to be angry or sorry. "It was, Barnabas, believe me. Magda knew what she was talking about, and I didn't doubt for a second she knew my secret," Vénessa admitted. Barnabas wrenched her off of him gently and grasped her shoulders. "What do you mean by 'secret'?" Barnabas hissed, looking at Vénessa through dark eyes. "Barnabas, she knew I would become pregnant with your child as did someone from the side of my family." Vénessa spoke. Silence flooded her in a mere second, and then Barnabas looked back at their daughter's grave. "Barnabas, I am so sorry," she began to say, "I thought that it was best for you and the baby's safety." Now, Barnabas was getting a fierce temper, but tried to keep it bottled inside. "Vénessa, for the love of God, what do you mean by 'secret,' "Barnabas replied. Deep down inside of her dusty bones, Vénessa knew that the truth was the only way for him to understand entirely. "Barnabas," she began, "Magda knew I would have your baby, and so did Angéliqué." Barnabas gasped, and his eyes bulged as wide and whitely as saucers. Vénessa now knew that the real question would come. "What does Angéliqué have to do with any of this, Vénessa?" "She's my cousin, Barnabas. My cousin is the reason why our daughter is dead." "Angéliqué? Why her? Why on this earth would she harm an innocent infant, and especially one that is related to her?" "You know the answer to that, Barnabas. She's angry and jealous of me. She figured if she made me miscarry your daughter, she'd have complete power over you like she planned to have before." Barnabas said nothing and got up off of the ground. He stood up and stared at the moon. Vénessa watched Barnabas shake his head in denial. She is so cruel; that witch is cruel! Cruel I say, cruel! And to kill an infant that is related to her...that is unfathomably evil! Barnabas thought. "Barnabas, look! Look, look to the mausoleum!" Vénessa screamed, alerting Barnabas with fright in her voice. Barnabas turned to Vénessa, and looked the way she pointed to. On the steps of his family's mausoleum, stood a figure wreathed in black. Barnabas went over to Vénessa and held her in his arms. "Barnabas Collins, step forward," the figure breathed heavily, the voice stern and full of inevitibilty. Vénessa looked at Barnabas, and begged him not to go. "Barnabas Collins, I will not ask again. Come forth." Silence then fell upon the darkened figure. Barnabas said to Vénessa, "I must go. I won't allow you to suffer any longer." Tears welled in his eyes, and then he kissed her gently on the lips and released her. Fate pulled at Barnabas' heart string, and soon he crept forward to the figure and stood his ground. What happened next was beyond Vénessa's aid: the darkened figure took Barnabas into the midst of shadow, and disappeared with him...only to leave Vénessa alone in the cemetery on the foot of her daughter's grave. Vénessa allowed a bloodcurdling scream to escape, and then...the cackling voice of her cousin, Angéliqué, echoed right through the blackness and embraced her with no mercy.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Angéliqué

The cackling laugh seemed impossible to get rid of, and Barnabas soon found himself in the midst of the one who caused the wretched, undeserved death of his daughter. All around him, Barnabas seemed to be eclipsed in an endless darkness which beheld very little light. But no matter what, that cackling that escaped from the lips of Angéliqué seemed almost impossible to stop. "Angéliqué, be finished with me! If you take the lives of those I love, take mine too! I am ready. Take my life so I can see my daughter and Vénessa!" And then, in the midst of Barnabas' terror, Angéliqué seemed merciful enough just to stop her cackling, but unfortuantely not the usual taunts. "Oh Barnabas. Your child was doomed to end up like you and its mother," Angéliqué spoke with a sarcastic tone. "Vénessa is the mother of your flesh and blood, your own cousin, and the true love of my life, Angéliqué! Don't you dare disrespect my daughter or my fiancé!" Barnabas snapped back, struggling to make his family endure. Angéliqué's blood was then set aflame in her veins; anger pounded through her heart. Barnabas had always had a backbone, and now he was testing her. "Barnabas Collins, I loved you more than anything in this world! I gave you my heart, and you ripped it apart with the destructive force of a Leviathan!" Angéliqué cried, gripping her supernatural grasp over him even tighter. Barnabas began to feel an invisible force pressing down upon him, literally paralyzing him from the neck below. "Angéliqué...I can't...breathe!" he gasped, wheezing heavily. Angéliqué looked at him and thought it over, and decided to release him. Barnabas gasped again, and breathed as much of the air in as he could. "Why...why would you kill your own blood?" Angéliqué said nothing to Barnabas, but instead began to cry as she took him into her arms. "Get off...of...me. Now," Barnabas began, "You had better tell me why you caused the death of my daughter, witch." His onyx-ringed hand grasped her throat, and began to squeeze tightly. "I only wanted...to..have your...child, Barnabas, and I..was so jealous. So, I killed...her." Angéliqué tried to say. Barnabas felt disgusted by that remark. "You truly are heartless, Angéliqué. I pity Vénessa for being related to you! If only you and her switched places, only then would I be able to withstand life a little bit more." Barnabas hissed. "Vénessa stole you away from me! That wasn't right; it wasn't fair! And so, I decided that she needed to know the meaning of my pain; I had her commit suicide through my power and I was the one who caused her to miscarry your daughter. There, I confess!" "I should burn you again!" "So be it, Barnabas; you know after you've done it, you'll miss me with all your heart." Anger was beyond Barnabas, and so, he wrenched Angéliqué off of him and cursed at her underneath his breath. Angéliqué fell onto the floor beside him and sobbed. "Barnabas, what will it take for you to love or even appreciate me?!" Barnabas thought for a moment, and then came up with an idea he was sure that would set Angéliqué's anger off again. He stood up, and he looked down at her with darkened eyes. "Angéliqué Bouchard, I beg of you to raise my fiancé and daughter from the grave! If you want me to thank you for anything, then I request that you give me back my family without question. I won't take any kind of refusal. If you so much as put a curse on either one of us, I will drain every drop of blood from your wretched veins. Am I clear?" Angéliqué looked at Barnabas with appalled eyes and an open mouth. "Barnabas, that is not fair!" "Damnit Angéliqué, you took my family from me and I didn't do a damn thing to you to deserve it! Now, give me back my family, and I will be obliged to make a truce with you." Angéliqué's heart grew cold again; her mind was racing with denial and personal torture. "Fine. I'll raise your 'family' from the grave, but on only these condition, Barnabas." Standing up too, she looked him in the eye. "Listen and accept this if you want your family: you make me a vampire and consider me one of your brides." Now Barnabas' eyes grew wide. An ultimatium from Angéliqué was most unlikely, but to hear that request set Barnabas' mind ablaze with a final decision. "Very well, Angéliqué. Come into my arms, and I swear I'll give you my love through the night." Angéliqué's heart calmed down, and tears of joy fell from her eyes as Barnabas opened his arms to her. She embraced him, and Barnabas moved her hair and cowl, and kissed her vein gently before biting her. His fangs grew out, and then he looked at Angéliqué's eyes. "Barnabas..."Angéliqué moaned, making eyes of loving trust at him. He said nothing, but instead claimed her throat with his teeth. Angéliqué almost fainted with desire, and then she felt her own canines become long, and then she looked at Barnabas again. "Now you keep your promise to me." "Very well, Barnabas. Thank you." "Oh no, Angéliqué. Thank _you_." With her mind in a daze with the thought of being Barnabas' bride, Angéliqué had no reason to deny Barnabas his request at all now.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Reunited

Barnabas followed Angéliqué to the graveyard, and there, he discovered his beloved Vénessa was missing. Worry made him panic inside, and then he stopped at the foot of the graves of Vénessa and Barnéssa right beside Angéliqué. The wind picked up the moment Angéliqué began chanting:

_"Great spirits of the night, come and raise mother and daughter_  
_Bring back the lives of those I have taken in vein_  
_To be reunited in blood, spirit, and soul with lover and father."_

The wind picked up yet again, and large gusts made the dirt around the graves sweep away in a large tornado-like form. Lightning also formed as well as thunder, and the cry of the undead made the ritualized chant all the more frightening as Angéliqué continued on:

_"Great spirits, hear the father's heart's cry come unto thee_  
_And allow him the chance to live with those he loves with in peace_  
_But if thou does not listen to my request, let their suffering come unto me_

_Great spirits, unto the souls of Barnéssa and Vénessa Collins, I beg for their release!"_

And almost instantly, the caskets were opened. Fear steadied his heart as if he could still feel it beat. Angéliqué stood there with a complexion of anger and sorrow mixed. Her guilt was writhing. But down in the graves, something sturred. Rustles formed from the dark. A sound of a disgruntled moan clung to his ears. Barnabas, who was both hopeful and overjoyed, went to the edge of the open grave, and saw his beloved Vénessa in that same wedding dress. She was still as beautiful, still as young..and already a glowing gem of a bride.

"Barnabas, is that you? Where are you?" Vénessa whispered, searching for a way out."Vénessa!" "Barnabas!" Barnabas let a hand reach out for her, and she gently took it with pride and hope. "Barnabas, I can't believe it. I'm alive again!" He smiled at her and laughed as he embraced her. Angéliqué began to scream internally. How could she have done something for someone who betrayed her? Nevertheless, she stood there silent and restrained.

Then, in the other grave, the baby cried aloud. "I will be right back," Barnabas told her, and then he went into the other grave and gently took his daughter into his arms. He looked down at her, and saw how beautiful she was. She had her mother's brow, hair and nose, she had his eyes, and she had his thin lips too as well as his smile. My sweet baby girl, Barnabas thought. "Barnabas, don't be selfish now," Vénessa laughed, looking down into the grave. "Here, take her," Barnabas said, giving Barnéssa to her. He climbed out of the grave, and shuffled himself over to his beautiful girls. "She's so sweet and innocent. I think she's going to be as beautiful as her mother." Barnabas commented. "She is rather beautiful. What an adorable baby." Angéliqué's croaking voice said, sniffling also coming from her as she saw the little Collins family reunited.

Vénessa looked at Barnabas with surprised eyes, and looked to her cousin. Angéliqué looked at Vénessa with hopeful eyes, and in her irises, she gave her cousin a look that beheld the glimpse of 'sorry.' Vénessa stood up, and then she walked over to her cousin, and smiled. "Thank you, cousin Angéliqué. I always knew there was some good in you. Here, hold your little goddaughter." Angéliqué gasped. A godmother of Barnabas' child. Then, she took the little baby, and saw Barnabas staring back at her. Barnabas himself then walked up from behind Vénessa, and he held her tightly in his arms as he smiled at Angéliqué. "Thank you so much, Angéliqué. Thank you for bringing us back together." In her arms, the little one cooed with joy and tasteful admiration.

She looked down at little Barnéssa, and saw the little one's eyes light up like stars at midnight. Barnéssa also smiled at her new godmother. The baby's blue eyes were as bright as saucers, glowing brightly in the midst of the moonlight all too well. Never before had Angéliqué seen such a beautiful child. Even one that was from the loins of her beloved vampire. But now she was getting closer to Barnabas once again.


	11. Chapter 11

Angéliqué felt dissuaded to be a part of her cousin's life again, but even more enraged when she saw Vénessa walk down the aisle to her beloved vampire. Although she had wanted Barnabas for herself, Angéliqué began to see the truth and knew that although she was performing the wedding, nothing would change. She didn't want his child now that she was the godmother of his child with Vénessa. When Vénessa reached Barnabas and took his hand, they walked towards her three steps and stopped. Angéliqué couldn't help but scream inside again, and then she began the ceremony:

_"From the night we come, to the night we go,_  
_Cursed or blessed to walk the Moonlight alone._  
_Sometimes another soul walks our path,_  
_Then two become one, in love everlasting._  
_Come forward, Chylder of the Blood,_  
_And welcome this couple to your brood,_  
_Within each other, these two are found,_  
_Bear witness as their souls are bound."_

Angéliqué then bound Barnabas' and Vénessa's wrists over a goblet of red wine, and then continued on:

_"Stand now as ye will stand forever,_  
_Like this crimson cloth your hearts are tethered,_  
_This goblet's wine is your blood of devotion,_  
_So sup from this dedication potion."_

Then, she passed the goblet of wine to her cousin, who supped from the goldben metal first, then gave it to Barnabas. He gradually took a sip of it, only to leave a drop for Angéliqué to pour onto the alter before their feet. "Vénessa, Barnabas, I want you two to repeat the vows to one another now."

Vénessa began first: "I will stand by your side, hunt at your back, and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life."

Then Barnabas intervined: "I will stand by your side, hunt at your back, and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life."

And then Angéliqué finished the words:

_"Above you are the stars, below you are the stones. As time passes, remember, like the star should your love burn brightly, like the stone should your love be firm. Be close, yet not so close that you restrict one another. Possess one another, yet grant each other the freedom to grow. Be understanding and compassionate, and have patience with each other, for storms may come, but they will quickly pass. Be free in giving affection and warmth. Fear not, lest the ways or words of the unenlightened give you unease. For the Lady and Lord are with you, now, and always._

_As both your arms and the cloth form the symbol of eternity, may your love endure through this life and all others. As the Gods and the old ones are witness with those of us present now, I proclaim them Husband and Wife, and thus are they Bonded in Blood. The two are now one._

I present to The Blood, Barnabas and Vénessa Collins. Forever Bound, Eternally Free! You are husband and wife for eternity. You may now kiss."

Barnabas looked at Vénessa and kissed her with an undying passion. His lips claimed hers, and the truest of true love was shared through that kiss, and then the people of Collinsport, who had been sitting in the benches with enthusicastic silence, clapped and cheered for the new Collins couple. Carolyn, who was sitting next to a fully-recovered Ben Stokes, stood up with Barnéssa in arm and cheered as well. All of Collinsport was overwhelmed as was Angéliqué. She was happy at last to see Barnabas smile again as well as her cousin. But then, an unexpected prescence and voice bloomed darkly from out of nowhere. "Well, cousin Barnabas, it's a great shame that you didn't say anything about her before; she's quite lovely if I may add." Barnabas held his new wife close to him, and then Carolyn and Ben interceded on their own doing. The mysterious vistor eyed the baby that lay asleep in Carolyn's arms, and then laughed a devious cackle: "Oh my, and what a beautiful child you have, cousin. And yet again, we have a new Collins everybody! How exciting! Maybe Daniel can play with her when she gets older. They would make rather nice playmates, I think; don't you agree, cousin Barnabas." Silence befell Ben, Carolyn, Vénessa, and Angéliqué, but not Barnabas. But then Barnabas saw who approached him and his family, and saw the unresting deviousness in the eyes. But then again, the mutton chops weren't much of a hider for his identity either. "Quentin, I beg of you, leave and nothing will happen that will make either one of us regret in the future," Barnabas pleaded, but unbeknownst to him, Angéliqué disappeared. Quentin, however, just stood on the altar step smiling his devious smirk as usual. "Quentin, I-" Barnabas began, but was stopped by the sight of Angéliqué gathering next to Quentin's side. Angéliqué embraced Quentin's lips with her own for a mere second, then gave an eye of deception and betrayal to Barnabas and the rest of his family. "You traitor. Angéliqué, I thought you had changed for the better!" Vénessa hissed, spilling her anger out towards her cousin. "Oh, it seems you like the type of women with fiery attitudes and souls, cousin! I do believe you made an excellent choice in bringing a Délacroix into the family," Quentin smiled. Barnéssa cooed in Carolyn's arms as the sound of Quentin's voice jarred her awake. "Oh, cousin. I think she wants to know me now." "Quentin, don't you dare touch my daughter!" "I won't hurt her, I swear it." But then, Carolyn fainted as a ghost flung itself right through her and snatched Barnéssa into its ghostly arms; it floated its grotesque way over to Quentin and handed him the baby. Barnabas' eyes grew wide and defensive. "Barnabas," Quentin began, stepping away from them with Barnéssa in arm, "If you ever want to see your daughter again, you'll do something for me." Barnabas felt desparate now. "Quentin, I will do anything you ask. Just please; give back Vénessa and I our daughter!" "I won't until you've heard my proposal. Well, it's more of a request from Angéliqué actually." "Go on, Quentin. Just say it." "You, cousin Barnabas, will let Angéliqué take the full guardianship of your daughter. Your daughter will live with us, and we will raise her as our own; should you refuse, then you may take matters up with the leader of the Leviathans. Because if you refuse, your wife will die yet again and your daughter will never know her true father. But of course, it's such a shame it has to be this way." "Why do you want my daughter?!" "Because, Barnabas, you've forgotten one little thing." "And what would that be, snake?" "You made Angéliqué into a vampire, and you should know what happens to vampire women afterwards." "Quentin, what is the reason of all this torment!" "Angéliqué can't have children, cousin! You have made it impossible for her to ever have children!" Silence crushed the very fabric of Barnabas' voice and soul; the people of Collinsport including the rest of the Collins family gasped. "Ah, now you're catching on, cousin. But then again, what torment would we bestow on the sweetest little girl Angéliqué and I have ever seen? Until then, cousin Barnabas." But then darkness crept back into the world the blackest it had ever been, and with his wife by his side, Quentin evaporated into shivering mist with both Angéliqué and Barnéssa in arm. The people of Collinsport fled the scene, and left a grieving Barnabas and family all alone. Vénessa fell broken into her husband's arms, and then Barnabas held her the tightest he had ever held anyone before in all his life. Carolyn and Ben as well as everyone else began to weep for them; as a whole circle, they encompassed the new Collins couple into their midst of condolences. But through Vénessa's eyes, the tears of heartbreak fell gently from her eyes as she continued to weep into Barnabas' throat. "Vénessa, I never meant to hurt you. But I swear," he began to say, looking her in the eyes, "That bastard will not keep our daughter forever. We will find her; I promise."


End file.
